Eye Candy, Soul Food
by delightful-fear
Summary: Kurt Hummel loves his life now as a male model, being immersed in the world of fashion and admired for his looks. Is it all going to be spoiled by his ex, Blaine Anderson, who keeps coming to his shows lately? (KLAINE, AU-Never Met)
1. Chapter 1

Kurt quickly stripped down to his underwear and slipped on the bright yellow jumpsuit. An assistant passed him some clunky platform shoes. He wanted to groan in complaint, but clamped his lips tight instead, teetering in the shoes as he waited for the signal to move.

The stage director waved to him, and Kurt drew his shoulders back, standing as straight and tall as he could, stomach sucked in tight. He got into his stride, despite the clunky shoes, working that runway perfectly.

His appearance sent a ripple of applause through the audience, and he basked in it, knowing it was mostly for the bold fashions he was wearing, but he knew he was wearing it well. Doing it justice. Selling it.

"Taxi!" a model hissed at him in passing, going down the runway in the opposite direction. The insult almost made him lose his serene model blank expression, but Kurt pulled himself together.

Backstage, he silently seethed, as he changed into his next ensemble. This time it was an unstructured suit in a shiny, dark grey fabric. To keep it edgy, he wore it without a dress shirt, his pale, bare chest showing between the lapels of the jacket.

Partial nudity was always the hardest for Kurt, and it took a second longer to gather himself before he stepped out on the runway again.

Sebastian Smythe was just exiting the stage, and Kurt couldn't resist snarking at him. "Seems like someone's been through a famine."

The taller, skinnier model simply scoffed, looking up and down Kurt's partially dressed body. "Now I know who caused it," Sebastian shot back with a sneer.

There wasn't time to retaliate, as Kurt was being signalled to start his turn. The comment rang around his head as he paced down the long runway, cameras flashing, the audience applauding and talking loudly. It was a struggle to keep his posture and face perfect, stabs of self doubt creeping in.

It was even worse when he paused at the end of the runway, doing the three still poses for the cameras, his eyes focussed out into the crowd. Usually it was just a sea of faces in the darkness, but this time his eyes fell on a gorgeous dark-haired man. Blaine Anderson.

In those mere seconds Kurt took everything in, his perfectly styled dark curls, those huge honey brown eyes, his sleek designer suit. The attractive man at his side, holding his hand.

Then he was turning, heading back up the runway, having an even harder time holding it together.

The rest of the show was a blur. Kurt simply changed clothes and worked the runway in an almost numb state. Even Sebastian's continued insults didn't penetrate his fog. He only lived for those few seconds at the end of the runway, his eyes landing unerringly on Blaine Anderson each time. Feeling like his heart was breaking all over again to see him whispering in his date's ear, or laughing together. He almost missed a step when he saw Blaine kiss the other man's cheek.

The designer was pleased with the show, and encouraged all the models to mix and mingle at the reception. Sometimes Kurt skipped these, since he was pretty established in the business and didn't need to network constantly. But he couldn't miss this one, even though he probably should.

Changing into his own clothes, Kurt was glad he had dressed well today. Olive green jeans that clung to his legs and ass like a devoted lover, and abstract geometric shirt that caught the eye and held it. The colours brought out his fair skin and blue eyes. He nodded in satisfaction as he smoothed a few hairs into place. Battle armour on. He was ready as he'd ever be.

The reception was in a huge hotel ballroom, with a live DJ and a bartender crafting impeccable martinis. It was invite only, the rich and who's who peppered through the crowd. Tall, slim models of both sexes ambled through the crowd like giraffes, skittering away from the servers who offered them canapés. Welcoming the ones offering drinks. Exotic beauties the regular people gazed up at in awe.

Kurt made a beeline for the bar, and flashed a flirty smile at Sam. He was mostly sure the guy was straight, but there had been a few lingering looks in the years they'd known each other that Kurt thought something could happen in the right circumstances. In the meantime, the awareness between them got him a flavoured vodka and soda placed before him within a minute.

Taking a few steps away, Kurt sipped the drink, the cool alcohol helping him relax as his eyes scanned the crowd.

Blaine and his date were sitting in a VIP corner, champagne being lavishly poured for them by other people in their group. Blaine came from wealth and had increased it, making him quite comfortable in those circles. His quiet confidence drew many people to him. Kurt knew this far too well.

"Kurt," someone called out to him, and he turned towards the voice. It was Sam, placing another vodka soda on the bar for him.

Exchanging his empty glass for the full one, Kurt shot him a grateful smile. Sam has been a bartender enough years to be able to read when someone needed some liquid courage.

The alcohol was hitting his empty stomach, and Kurt was looking at the passing trays of delicious tidbits with more interest. Maybe he didn't have Blaine anymore, but he could grab a whole tray of crab cakes. Or leave now and get a meatball sandwich. Or a pizza. Or a cheesecake.

Sebastian passed by about then, and caught where Kurt's gaze was locked. "So that's why you were so fat."

Kurt just rolled his eyes. "No, it was because every time I fucked your father, he gave me a cookie."

The way Sebastian's eyes flared in anger was enough satisfaction. The taller man didn't get a chance to respond before a few of his friends pulled him away.

Kurt watched him sass shay through the crowd, and couldn't deny that he had the ideal body for a male model. He was the type of guy who had been a cute, skinny kid, shooting upwards quickly into a tall, angular awkward teenager. But his body had caught up, muscles rounding off those sharp edges.

Now he had long, slim but muscular legs. Nice shoulders and arms. His chest was perfection. Well defined pecs, and a twelve pack, or so it seemed. And all that combined with thick hair, wide green eyes and a killer smile. No wonder Sebastian Smythe had been the top male model for years, and nobody was even coming close to knocking the king off his throne.

Even though Kurt knew it was futile, he kept trying. He didn't want to be the top model himself, but wanted to knock Sebastian down a peg or two. Just to be one of the few who didn't bow to his power. Kurt's taunts frequently hit hard, and he was petty enough to feel a zing of satisfaction from that. One of the few things he took pleasure from lately.

...

An hour later, he'd finished a couple more drinks and was really feeling it. When he came back from the washroom, a good looking guy grabbed him, dragging him on to the dance floor.

Many people had left, and the remaining ones were well on their way to getting drunk or high. Kurt felt good and loose, enjoying grinding with his handsome stranger. Being desired and admired was almost as intoxicating as his vodka, and he teased and flirted. Working the crowd.

He might not have Sebastian's height or muscles, but many were still attracted to him. His young looking face, big blue eyes and fair skin. His slim body. His ass. Many would still label him a twink, even though he was getting a little old for it.

A friend passed him an ice cold bottle of water, and he tipped his head back, draining it thirstily. He shot his friend a grateful look, and saw someone staring at him in the background. Blaine.

Even half way across the ballroom, he could feel the weight of that stare. Those incredible, hypnotic eyes, framed by thick eyelashes and dark, triangular brows. He had once drowned in those deep, expressive pools. Could remember them brimming with admiration, lust, and eventually love. Closing his own eyes, Kurt turned away.

Strong arms encircled him. "Are you OK there? Need some air?"

His dance partner had been treating him good, getting him drinking, flirting and flattering him often. Obviously hoping to go home with Kurt soon for some naked fun.

There was a small flicker of interest, his libido urging him to take what was so eagerly being offered. He could be worshipped for a night.

He sighed, shaking his head, and stumbled away. Reaching the doorway, he held on to the frame for a second. Was he too drunk to get home safe?

A strong arm came around him, and for a second he feared it was the guy he'd just left. He wasn't in the mood for a persistent admirer tonight. But when he looked to the side, it was Sam, the bartender.

"Need some help?" the tall friendly blond offered, his wide mouth stretched into an easy-going grin.

Kurt immediately relaxed against him, feeling safe. "Yes, please. Help me to a cab?"

A few minutes later Kurt felt better, inhaling the cool night air, feeling his fuzziness lifting a little. Sam waved for a cab, and waited with him while one pulled up.

Suddenly, Kurt really didn't want to go home alone. "Um, Sam," he said softly, hoping he wasn't misreading things. "Do you have any plans when your shift is over?"

Sam big hazel eyes warmed. "Actually, I'm done work. No plans."

Impulsively, Kurt grabbed his hand and yanked him along into the back of the taxi. Sam chuckled, going along with it. He slammed the door. "Are you kidnapping me?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's only kidnapping if it's against your will. I'm only 'aggressively encouraging' you to come home with me."

Sam gave a sexy half-smile at that, shifting closer to Kurt. "Then you better give your address to the driver."

...

-A/N: Another free-standing story in this Tropes series. Overall, I think it's a fairly fluffy story, but it is going into weight/eating issues a fair bit. Please review the tags to see if there is anything triggering for you, or feel free to message me on tumblr to ask questions.

-This story has the tropes: "Bitchy models who snark at each other on the runway" AND "Blaine eats people, but he's cute & dating is hard"

-I've done drafts of the whole story & think there will be 5 chapters, about 20k words.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt woke up, and stretched before going to the washroom. He splashed his face with water, and judged that he didn't look too bad for drinking more than normal last night. He had guzzled a lot of water once back in his apartment.

Sauntering back to his sunlit bed, he couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful blond man stretched across it, his face still relaxed in sleep. Crawling under the covers, he snuggled in close, his motions making the man stir and wrap long arms around him.

"Did you sleep OK?"

Sam opened sleepy eyes, blinking a few times and then giving him a lazy smile. "Really good, actually. This bed is incredible." He rolled over on to his back, not seeming to mind at all when Kurt curled along his side. "I never thought you'd be this cuddly."

Kurt shrugged. "Everyone has their lonely nights."

Propping some pillows behind his head, Sam sat up a little on the bed. "Kurt, I know you better than you realize. I know servers, bartenders, well, we kind of blend into the background, right? People see the uniform, not always the person behind it."

"Was I like that to you?" Kurt asked, shocked. He tried thinking back. He had always made an effort to thank servers, to meet their eyes, giving a nod or a small smile of appreciation.

Sam chuckled. "I don't mean now, lately, since you became Mr. Thing. The guy everyone was suddenly ga-ga over. I meant before..."

The hand that had been lightly stroking over Sam's chest froze. Kurt looked down, his eyes staring unfocused at his collarbone. "What are you talking about?" He tried keeping his tone normal, but knew it sounded a bit strained.

A large hand soothed down his back, pulling him into a loose hug. Kurt took the comfort, letting the strokes down his bare skin relax him. "I saw you, back when you first started going out with Blaine. At least once or twice a month, you'd show up some event I was working. And you know what people are like around him. Everybody talks about his every move."

Closing his eyes tight, Kurt pressed his face into Sam's chest. Strong feelings washed over him. Memories of those crazy, early days, when it had been all so new, sparkly and fantastic. Coloured by being at Blaine's side, his date, his boyfriend, making everything a thousand times better.

It had been a rollercoaster of a relationship. Starting slow, then picking up speed. They reached incredible heights, but eventually everything came back down. The way everything grew into more, his world expanding, becoming a person of value in that glittering world of fashion and fame. The way Blaine had pulled away, little by little, until Kurt felt like they were strangers.

"You know how bartenders are always being treated like a therapist in movies and TV? Well, there's some truth to it. We watch people a lot, without anybody noticing."

Sighing, Kurt opened his eyes and braced himself to hear the worst. "OK. And what hard truths are you going to lay on me?"

"I saw you with him. Blaine. And I know, truly know, that you loved him. Deeply. With every atom of your being. And he loved you too." Sam said, his tone completely serious for once.

Kurt scoffed. "Sure. Once. Maybe. But that's long over, for both of us."

"Bullshit," Sam argued softly. "I've seen you with lots of guys since then, and I know you took a fair share of them home, but I don't think you've let anyone back into your heart since him."

"No, that's the bullshit."

Sam just arched an eyebrow. "You brought me back here last night, and after all those years of flirty looks, all I got was a few half-hearted kisses."

Kurt chuckled, rolling away a little. "Perhaps I sensed that you were a little lower on the Kinsey scale, the more hetero side. It wasn't because I don't like you, or that you aren't gorgeous."

"Kurt, it was because you still love Blaine. Trust your bartender-therapist," Sam argued back, gathering him back into a hug.

Even barely dressed, just wearing their underwear, cuddling with Sam was practically like cuddling with a puppy. He was comfortable with his own body and sexuality, whatever it might actually be, and it made Kurt relax against him. There simply wasn't enough sexual spark between them to go further than flirting. Kurt was just glad Sam hadn't been pissed at him when things had fizzled last night. Maybe he was as lonely and touch-starved as Kurt, perfectly happy to spend the night with a friend.

...

"I just don't get it. The man is gorgeous and rich. And you can tell he loves fashion."

"Maybe he likes being the better looking one in relationships. He drops them if that changes."

"You two are both wrong. He's a chubby chaser! It's just some weird fetish."

Kurt put on his ear buds, and cranked his music up high to block out the conversation from the other side of his mirror. Sebastian was definitely that last voice, the others likely his friends. The topic was obvious though: Blaine.

His reappearance at the last show with a new guy was a big gossip item in the modelling community today. Kurt tried to ignore it, knowing most of the guys were simply irked that Blaine wasn't interested in them. What did the fatties have that they didn't have? How could he be attracted to 'that'?

Kurt could remember how it had been in the beginning, how slowly Blaine had moved with him. Approaching him almost like a skittish horse. Years of bullying and fat-shaming were a lot to overcome. It took a while before Kurt believed that Blaine actually liked him, just the way he was.

He had been working in retro-style dinner, with Rachel and Santana. Rachel was a student at NYADA, but he had never been able to get accepted to that school. At least he was able to occasionally sing and perform show tunes at the diner. Then there was that one night that Blaine showed up, and Rachel had served him, flirting as hard as she could. Santana has simply nudged Kurt's shoulder, pointing out how often Blaine was looking his way.

When Blaine showed up the next time, Santana physically pinned Rachel to the wall until Kurt shyly carried over a menu. He could hardly speak, feeling like it couldn't be real. It must be a prank, a harsh joke. Any second, Blaine's warm smile would change into a sneer. "What? Did you actually think I'd want you?"

But he kept showing up, picking times when Kurt wasn't as busy, drawing into him into conversations. He wasn't there for the food. He usually left most of it behind. Flirting just enough to keep Kurt blushing, and so he knew Blaine wanted to more than friends. And when Kurt finally agreed to go out with him, held his hand the whole night.

Maybe that was what Blaine liked the best. The conquest. Taking the shy, under-appreciated chubby guys, and lavishing them with love and attention. Pumping them full of so much positive energy that they started to believe they were worth it.

The timer on his phone went off, pulling Kurt out of his memories. He did a final check in the mirror, and decided his hair looked good. Taking out his ear buds, he braced himself for overhearing more comments about Blaine as he made his way over to his clothing rack.

...

Another show done, another party. Fashion week could be an exhausting blur. Kurt was seasoned enough now to get through the work with grace, despite Sebastian continued barrage of catty comments.

What had Kurt off kilter was seeing Blaine again in the audience, his newest boyfriend clamped to his side. He had gotten through the show, but knew his gaze had lingered on Blaine too often. By the end of the show, Blaine had practically been smirking at him.

Fuck! Why did Kurt still feel so much around him? After all this fucking time, and the way things had ended, he should be feeling nothing.

It was pouring salt on an open wound, trying to act normal and cheerful at the party, when all he wanted was to snag a bottle of vodka and hide in a corner to watch Blaine. Sam was working the event, and had passed Kurt a drink without saying anything. It turned out to be non-alcoholic. Club soda with a dash of lime juice and lots of ice.

As much as Kurt wanted to escape into alcohol or sex with a stranger, he knew it really wouldn't solve anything. Instead, he threw himself into working the crowd, being a perfect, flirty little social butterfly. He chatted with all the models, and greeted the fashion industry professionals. Tried to pretend Blaine wasn't even there. Maybe in time, he wouldn't even care if he was.

Back at the bar, Sam came from behind the counter to pass him a fresh drink. "Holding up OK?" He bent down to say in Kurt's ear, the music and noise of the party making it hard to talk normally.

Kurt shrugged a shoulder. "I'm managing."

Sam enfolded him in a hug, and Kurt gladly hugged his friend back. It was good to find kind, genuine people in this world of artifice.

Chuckling, Sam pulled back. "You are doing a good job ignoring him tonight, but he's failing badly. He's been practically staring at you all night. His date is even looking a bit upset."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt took a long sip of his drink. "Hearing that isn't good for me, Sam. I'm trying to get over him. It's probably best if I just go."

Handing the drink back, Kurt gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed out the door.

He got outdoors and was about to hail a cab, when he heard his name. With that voice. And it stopped him dead in his tracks.

Slowly turning, Kurt was shocked to see Blaine standing only a few feet away. Alone.

"What do you want, Blaine?" Kurt asked, his head at a haughty angle. His defences were fully up, his tone cool.

Blaine said nothing, only walking slowly forward. Stopping when they were standing almost too close together, invading Kurt's personal space deliberately.

Kurt held his ground, staring down at Blaine. What gave this arrogant asshole the right to talk to him after all this time? He wasn't the same, shy Kurt Blaine had first met. This was older, wiser and far more experienced Kurt.

"You look incredible. I can't keep my eyes off you."

The words seemed sincere, but Kurt almost scoffed at them. He might have believed Blaine, a long time ago, but that felt like another lifetime. Another person.

"Go away, Blaine. Go back to your boyfriend," Kurt said dismissively, finally dropping his gaze.

The next second he was being shoved back against a tree, with Blaine crowding right into him. Before he could react, Blaine's mouth was on his, as hot and desperate.

Kurt's body froze at first, but then his sense memory took over, and he melted. It was like he couldn't get close enough, kissing Blaine back just as intensely.

Blaine groaned at Kurt's response, an earthy sound that reminded him of other more intimate times. Blaine's hands on Kurt's shoulders moved down his back, settling on his hips, pulling Kurt closer.

As suddenly as it started, it stopped. Blaine took a half step back, still breathing hard, his eyes dark with arousal. His hands were still resting on the top of Kurt's low-rise skinny jeans, his thumbs almost hooked on his slightly protruding hip bones.

"Oh, sorry, um, Kurt," Blaine sputtered. Nothing like his normal smooth self. "I can't, I shouldn't..."

Pushing his hands away, Kurt felt mortified. "Yes, you shouldn't. Fuck off, Blaine. Don't come near me again."

Trying to hold back the tears, Kurt turned and hailed a cab. As soon as he was in the back of one, he broke down crying.

...

"He's a stupid fucking fuck. I'm sorry I ever encouraged you to talk to that sicko," Santana spat out, her accent a little stronger when she was mad.

Kurt pulled a thicker blanket over his bed, feeling like he couldn't warm up. He just needed a cocoon, somewhere quiet and safe he could escape to for a while. Luckily, he had tomorrow off.

When he had gotten back to the loft, Santana had seen he was upset. She had told him to take a hot shower and get into his pyjamas. Then she crawled into bed with him and made him tell her everything, punctuating his story occasionally with Spanish curse words.

"Fuck. Even just being around him a couple times is pulling me back to those worst days," Kurt groaned, rubbing at the tears that kept seeping out.

Santana gave a loud huff. "That man is so seriously fucked up about food and weight. He only seems attracted to overweight guys, but then he's all over you tonight."

"Well, I have gained back a little weight," Kurt said, loving how worked up she was about this on his behalf. Santana wasn't one who said she loved you, but she's gladly slice up your enemies with the knives she claimed she had hidden in her hair.

"Kurt, I never want to hear you say anything so idiotic again. You are the perfect weight right now, and you know it. Any less and it's unhealthy."

Nodding, Kurt dropped it, although the insecure part of him argued differently. That voice loved chanting Sebastian's insults. Loved pointing out that even though many of the models called him fat, Blaine had found him too thin tonight.

Vivid memories came easily, filling his mind. All those scary but wonderful nights with Blaine. Making out until they were both so aroused, and Blaine's hands easing under Kurt's clothes. Feeling horribly self-conscious at first, so shy. But Blaine's enthusiastic explorations and soothing words had eventually convinced Kurt. Blaine genuinely liked Kurt's body the way it was. He didn't feel fat with beautiful Blaine kissing all over his skin, exclaiming on how soft and silky it felt. He felt loved and treasured.

To have Blaine shrink back from his body tonight just left Kurt feeling hollow. Rejected by the person who had built his confidence up in the first place. It was shaking the foundations of this whole new life he had created.

Nights like this Kurt felt like running away. Leaving New York and just moving far, far away. Find a place where he knew nobody and nobody knew him. A fresh start, taking it day by day.

But as much as he wanted to leave his messy past behind, and hated many aspects of his present, there were good things that kept him right here.

He was working in the world of fashion in one of the best cities of the world. He got to wear designer clothing and got paid handsomely for it. He had skilled professionals picking out the best clothes for him, doing his hair, taking his photo and airbrushing it to perfection. Everywhere he went, heads turned, and not just because he a recognizable face now. Because this old ugly duckling had grown into a swan. Was it shallow to enjoy being so valued for his looks?

He was practical about it. He still lived in the loft with Rachel and Santana, paying as little rent as he could. They all worked a lot, so it was never that crowded or noisy. Most of his money he saved, knowing his twink appeal would fade in a few years. He'd ride this wave while it lasted, make connections in the industry, and hopefully coast into a related career.

"I just need to keep my distance from Blaine Anderson. Not even look his way if he comes to a show. Leave parties if he's there," Kurt said, wiping away his tears and jutting out his chin mutinously.

Santana looked him over with her big dark eyes, and draped her arms around him. "That's right, mijo." Her hugs were rare, making them even more special. Kurt sunk against her, just wanting that empty place, deep inside to go away. The place where his heart used to be.

...

-Thanks for continuing to read this story. :)


	3. Chapter 3

The pictures seemed to be everywhere, and Kurt tried his best to ignore the stares and whispers as he walked to his station.

Just his luck that some paparazzi was stationed outside the venue of last night's party. Everything was captured. Kurt leaving alone, Blaine running after him, the kisses, the rejection. Kurt's crushed expression, and his tearful escape.

Even worse was the article that accompanied the pictures. Their whole sordid relationship, summed up in a few paragraphs.

**Old Flames Rekindled?**

**A very private moment played out in public last night. Supermodel Kurt Hummel left designer Viktor Romanov's party early, only to be pursued by ex-boyfriend Blaine Anderson. Some very passionate kisses ended abruptly, and they didn't say much before Hummel practically jumped into a cab to get away.**

**Anderson, son of corporate lawyer Phillip Anderson of Ohio, grew up wealthy and attended private schools. After graduating from Columbia, he has found his own success in capital market finance. He is known to play as hard as he works, proudly out and attending many of the best events of the New York arts scene.**

**Hummel also hails from Ohio, but from much more humble beginnings. He moved to New York after high school, but failed to get into performing arts colleges.**

**Anderson himself previously admitted that he met Hummel in a diner and kept going back until he convinced Kurt to date him. Overweight and shy, Hummel was a quiet presence at Anderson's side at first. But within a few months, whatever he had lost in weight, he had gained in confidence and style. Hummel started to outshine his attractive boyfriend.**

**Their intense relationship fizzled out not long after that. By then, Hummel had his own connections in the fashion world and did his first runway show. His career built as more designers requested him. He was the new Face everyone wanted.**

**Many questioned what went wrong between the men. Most postulate that Anderson has an unusual preference for, let us say, more Rubenesque men. Some have mentioned that Anderson's first love as a teenager had tragically died from anorexia.**

**Both men have had other relationships since their split, and Anderson left his newest to pursue Hummel last night. Was this just evidence of some unfinished business? A need for closure? Or the start of something new?**

...

Kurt got through his work, not even looking at the faces in the audience. If Blaine had been there, he had no idea.

"Are you coming to the party, Kurt?"

Hearing his name, Kurt lifted his head from packing his duffle bag. Seeing it was Mike, one of the models Sebastian hung out with, Kurt just gave him a blank look and went back to work.

Mike spun away with a huff, clearly offended.

Sebastian smirked his way. "Overweight people always seem to have a chip on their shoulder...And several in their laps...and at the floor around their feet...and chip crumbs around their mouth too."

Sighing, Kurt yanked on his coat, and jammed a baseball cap down on his head. He just wanted to be invisible now, escape back to his flat. That article, those pictures, had drained every bit of his energy. He didn't even have enough gas in the tank to snark back at Sebastian.

...

The loft was blissfully empty and silent. Rachel was at NYADA, prepping for a big performance. Santana was out of town for a few days, likely visiting Brittany.

He changed into yoga pants, a tee, and his warmest, thickest sweater. It had a hood and reached past his knees. Wearing it was like being wrapped in a huge comforter. He didn't care how it looked.

Opening his laptop, he went to one of the food delivery websites, and soon had a huge order on it's way. The site even showed the whole process, step by step. His food was cooked. His food was picked up. His driver was 2 miles away. 1 mile away...

He'd already paid online with a credit card, but dug out his wallet for the tip. There was a knock on the door, and he made sure his hood was pulled up, shadowing his face, before he opened the door. The transaction was quick and painless.

The bag was pleasingly heavy, and he placed it on the dining room table. Slowly, he pulled out each container, inhaling appreciatively when he opened them. Caesar salad, the strong garlic dressing balanced with tangy parmesan and slightly fishy saltiness of anchovies. A generous portion of creamy Fettuccini Alfredo. Garlic bread. And to finish it all off, genuine New York style cheesecake, rich and dense.

He laid out the feast, practically drooling already, in anticipation. This was his drug of choice. His heroin. It would fill up that empty place inside and numb him from the worst feelings. It had worked on his worst days at school, being bullied and taunted. It would work now.

There was a knock on the door again. Kurt looked up, confused. Was it the driver? Had he forgotten something?

He scanned the floor as he went, looking for an insulated carrier bag or a slip of paper. Anything out of place. He pulled the sliding door back distractedly. "Hi, um..."

But instead of a frumpy, middle-aged man, it was Blaine Anderson.

Kurt stepped back in shock. Blaine. Here. He hadn't been here since that awful final night.

Blaine took advantage, stepping in and closing the door behind him quickly. His dark eyes were direct and determined, coming straight for Kurt.

Instinctively, Kurt backed up just as fast, gaze locked on Blaine, almost like prey watching a predator. Ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. He stopped when he hit the dining room table, trapped against it.

Blaine looked down at the elaborate spread, his eyes narrowing. "You are expecting someone? A date?"

Kurt scoffed, and turned to the table, quickly closing all the containers from Blaine's view. "It's really none of your business. Get the fuck out, Blaine."

"No."

The firm answer made Kurt eye Blaine challengingly. Was this going to be a scene? Did he want to argue? Fight? Could this get dangerous? Physical even? Should he just leave the flat, get somewhere safe?

On any other day, he would have stretched to his full height and stared Blaine down. Lowered his voice to its deepest register, and growled a warning. Leave or suffer the consequences. And he would have meant it. Kurt now was nothing like the Kurt of a few years ago.

He had dealt with snarky comments from Sebastian and the other models, hook-ups that had gone terribly wrong, aggressive fans, paparazzi pushing their cameras and microphones into his face, blocking his way. He had dealt with the drunks and drugged, sometimes when he was intoxicated himself. No one had gotten the better of him.

Except the man standing before him.

And his energy was already so low, it would probably measure below zero.

Turning away, Kurt dragged himself to the sofa and flopped down onto it, wrapping the huge sweater around himself defensively. "Leave, Blaine. Please."

He closed his eyes tight, just hoping he'd hear the sound of retreating footsteps and the door sliding shut. Instead, he felt the sofa dip as Blaine settled beside him.

"Fifteen minutes, Kurt. Listen to me for fifteen minutes and then I'll go."

Blaine's voice was soft and almost cajoling, reminding Kurt of their earliest conversations in the dinner. The one he used to try to convince Kurt to go out on a date, that Blaine actually was attracted to him. It really wasn't fair.

Kurt huffed in exasperation. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, and started the timer, setting it down on the coffee table.

"Look, I know you saw the pictures, and read the article. I'm just as embarrassed about our private business being out there as you are," Blaine started.

Kurt just stared at the decreasing numbers on the phone screen, giving no other response.

Blaine let out a frustrated sigh. "There was something mentioned, something we never discussed."

This got Kurt's interest, even though he tried to keep his face neutral.

"About my first boyfriend. From high school. His name was Lucas and he was tall and beautiful. Sporty. Loved basketball and track. Loved me."

Blaine's tone warmed as he spoke of this man from his past, and Kurt hated the flare of jealousy it triggered in him. Did Blaine love him more than he had loved Kurt?

"You never met my family, but I think I told you I was only close with my older brother. My father was very busy with work, and hardly even looked at me after I came out to the family as gay. My mother was only concerned with keeping up appearances, so put me into Dalton Academy and made sure I was constantly busy with choirs and private lessons. They never hugged or kissed me once I was in middle school; the most I could hope for was a light squeeze to the shoulder."

This information was surprising. Blaine had barely mentioned his family in their months together. Kurt had assumed it was a sensitive subject and had left it alone. Many gay men didn't get along with their families.

"I met Lucas when we were Juniors. Sixteen. I transferred there, and we hit it off from the start. There was a no bullying policy at the school, so it was safe to be openly gay. Hold hands walking between classes, and act like boyfriends."

The timer went off, and Kurt reached over and shut it off. "There. Time's up. Fascinating story. Go now."

Kurt rose off the sofa, but Blaine's hand shot out to grab his forearm. Keeping him in place. "Please Kurt. I was just about to tell you how he died. I've never told anyone except a therapist about that."

Intrigued, but not wanting to admit it, Kurt sunk back into place.

"It was the first serious relationship either of us had ever had, and we were constantly together. It felt like we were always holding hands and stealing kisses, and when we started having sex, it felt like we could never have enough. I had been lonely, touch-starved, and here was a perfect man for me."

Blaine's voice broke a little on that last word, and Kurt finally looked at him. Tears were streaming down his face, and he wasn't even bothering to wipe them away. Kurt had rarely seen him upset like this. He put the box of tissues from a side table on the sofa between them. Tacit permission to cry as much as he needed.

"I was too blind with love and the new relationship to see the warning signs. Lucas acted normal, going to classes, playing sports, eating huge meals like most active teen boys do. But somehow, he started losing a lot of weight. We were naked together so often, I didn't notice the gradual changes. It took some mean comments from other students for me to really look at him. See how gaunt he had become."

"Manorexia? Bulimia?"

Blaine shrugged, rubbing some tissues over his wet face. "Before I knew it, he was at the hospital, hooked to an IV, pumping sugar water right into his veins. I was there for hours every day, holding his hand, supporting him. But no matter what they did, he kept losing more weight. He was too weak to even go to the washroom without a nurse. There was no way he could have been using laxatives and vomiting."

Despite their past, everything...Kurt couldn't bear to sit by with someone in so much pain. He reached out a tentative hand, resting it on Blaine's thigh. "That must have been horrible, Blaine. I've seen my fair share of it, working in fashion."

"It took a lot of therapy to recover after he passed away. So young. So much potential gone forever," Blaine sighed. "Eventually, I tried dating someone else. He ended it after a few weeks. He said I was creeping him out, watching him eating a bit too closely. I guess I was overly sensitive, looking for signs of eating disorders.

"After that, I avoided eating with men I dated. It was better to concentrate on other activities, keep things from being centred around meals. Playing music or sports, going to plays or museums."

"Attending fashion shows," Kurt said dryly. He was all too familiar with this quirk of Blaine's. It had gone against all of Kurt's idealized fantasies of what dating was about. He had pictured eating in fine restaurants, or sharing popcorn at the movies. Cooking a romantic dinner for each other at home. Steamier fantasies involving whip cream and chocolate sauce.

Dates with Blaine were between meals, like a few hours in the afternoon, or after dinner. He never slept over, since breakfast might be expected then.

It had been a big adjustment, but being with Blaine was worth it. Kurt found he was eating healthier meals, since they were more satisfying. Chips and chocolate would have him crashing within an hour. Being happy also helped. He wasn't trying to numb away his feelings as often with food.

Kurt had lost weight gradually, and started feeling even better about himself. It was working far better than any diet he had ever tried in the past. He was also being more active than before, walking all over New York with Blaine, and all the sex. When he started going to the gym a few times a week, he noticed results even quicker.

"So, that is why you are a chubby chaser? Because of Lucas? He reprogrammed your libido?" Kurt has always been curious about this, but felt it was too sensitive a subject to broach back then. Now, he had nothing to lose.

Blaine gave a weak smile. "Yes, I never want to see another man die like that. Chubby is safer. I can relax and be myself around them."

"So, why does it never last that long? I think I was one of the longer relationships, right? Four months? Gossip says you rarely last even three months."

"Chubby is safer," Blaine repeated, and his gaze fell to Kurt's hand, still resting on his thigh. The sleeve of the sweater had pulled up slightly, showing his slim forearm and the slightly protruding bones of his wrist. He picked up Kurt's hand, and moved it to the sofa.

Kurt sighed loudly. "Oh fucking relax, Blaine. I wasn't going to jump you, bony ass and all. I know you don't want me anymore."

Blaine chuckled, breaking some of the tension between them. "You have slimmed down, Kurt, but your ass is as round and luscious as ever."

The unexpected compliment made Kurt chuckle as well, and he felt a pang, missing this, how they had laughed so easily together.

"So, that's it then? You felt the need to tell me about Lucas? OK, mission accomplished. How about you go now?" Kurt said, the words coming out a bit sharper than he had intended. Being around Blaine this much was stirring up old feelings. Feelings he had thought were gone.

But Blaine didn't move. He looked over at the table, all the containers. "That food was all for you? No one else has arrived."

Kurt gritted his teeth defensively. "Yes. I'm going to eat every last crumb and lick the containers clean. I don't even fucking care if it makes me gain ten pounds overnight."

Blaine nodded, but surprisingly didn't seem disgusted by that. Perhaps it was all part of dating chubby men. Even if he didn't see it, most were probably overindulging occasionally like this. "Seriously, do you really think you'd gain a few pounds, just from one big meal?"

The question was weird, but Kurt just nodded. "At least a pound or two. From the pasta and cheesecake alone. I used to go the Breadstix back home and-"

"Kurt! Would you be willing to try something with me?" Blaine interrupted, leaning closer.

Having those beautiful big eyes focussed on him at such a close range sent a tingle of awareness right through Kurt. He looked away, not wanting Blaine to notice. "Try what?" He tried acting calm, but his heart started to pound when Blaine shifted closer.

Was this going to be more kissing? Testing if Blaine could actually be attracted to a regular sized Kurt?

"OK, this is going to sound crazy, but you are the only one I can ask to do this," Blaine said, his imploring tone back.

"What? What do you want to do?" Curiosity warred with self-preservation inside Kurt.

"I bet you can eat all that food and not gain anything. In fact, you might lose a little."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "What! Are you going to make me do jumping jacks all night after I eat it or something? You don't seem the type to ask me to vomit or use laxatives..."

"Nope. No tricks. Just need your help to test out a crazy theory. The only condition you might not like is..."

Kurt looked back at Blaine, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Blaine took a big breath, and set it out slowly. "That you spend the night with me."

"What?!" Kurt scrambled off the sofa and was ten steps away before he faced Blaine again. "Are you fucking kidding me? You push your way in here uninvited, say you will leave after fifteen minutes, and now it's been almost an hour! And then you try to manipulate me into feeling sorry for you, all that stuff about your family and Lucas. Was this what you planned all along? Trying to fuck me one last time?"

Blaine stood up slowly, his hands out in front of him in a calming way, like he was approaching a skittish horse. "Kurt, I promise we will stay fully clothed. No sex. But we do need to sleep in the same bed. Please, please, please Kurt. I know it's ridiculous, but this really isn't about sex."

"This sounds a lot like 'Just the tip...'," Kurt scoffed, and he walked towards the door and pulled it open. "It's time for you to go, Blaine."

Shoulders dropping slightly, Blaine nodded, accepting his defeat. He walked slowly to the door, but then paused. "How about this: I leave and go to that coffee place around the corner. You heat up your food and have a leisurely meal, and think over my request. Maybe even weigh yourself before and afterwards. And if you want me to come back, text me."

"Yes, I'm sure after stuffing myself, I'll be completely in the mood for a platonic night with an ex-boyfriend," Kurt said, pushing Blaine out and sliding the door closed.

"Platonic. Clothes on. Holding you, and not even kissing you. Scout's honour," Blaine said fast, as the door closed that last inch.

Kurt just shook his head, walking back to the kitchen. That was one of the strangest evenings he'd had for ages. He reheated the pasta and bread. A lot of feelings had been stirred up the last couple days, and the meal really hit the spot.

By the time he was a few bites into the cheesecake, he suddenly realized he was extremely full and couldn't have another bite. He rarely ate so much rich, heavy food at one meal, and he usually paid close attention to his body as he ate, stopping when he felt satisfied. This time it had been emotional eating, and he had gone way past the satisfied level without even noticing.

Groaning slightly, he put the rest of the cheesecake in the fridge, and drank a big glass of water. Maybe he should go for a walk, or take an antacid. His body wasn't used to this type of food anymore.

In the bathroom, he saw the scale, and without thinking too hard, stepped on. It was up a few pounds. He ran a hand over his stomach. It wasn't that big a deal. By morning, he would have digested it all and likely burned some off it just from his basic metabolism. Breathing and pumping blood around. He could eat a bit lighter the next few days, exercise some extra, and he'd be back to normal before the end of the week. He had learned how to handle a bit of occasional overindulgence.

Or he could get Blaine back here for his little 'experiment'. How was it supposed to work? He would lay his hands on Kurt like some TV preacher?

The whole idea was so ridiculous, Kurt dismissed it and looked for the real reason Blaine had come over. Why he had kissed Kurt last night, after being apart so long? As much as Kurt wanted to think everything was over and done between them, he couldn't deny how passionately they had kissed yesterday. They had a connection that had gone deeper than any other Kurt had experienced before or since. Was he just hard wired to always want Blaine?

Things had ended so badly, so bitterly, there was no way to go back. Kurt knew this, deep in his heart. His soul. But he also had to admit to himself that he ached, simply ached, to have another night in Blaine's arms. Just one more night. It wouldn't be that bad, would it, if he agreed to it, his eyes wide open. No promises for anything more than one night. Maybe it was simply the closure they both hungered for.

Then they would both be free. Free to move on with other people. No looking back.

He knew it was a flimsy excuse, but didn't delve deeper. His hands shook as he texted Blaine.

...

-A/N: Thanks for going along with this strange story! Only 2 more chapters left.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt woke first, stiffening at the feel of Blaine's arms around him. They had never slept a whole night together before. Quick naps after sex, but Blaine had never stayed past 2 am.

He sighed and relaxed, closing his eyes to savour it. A warm, solid body along the length of his back, their legs bent to spoon closely together. Soft exhales of his breath against the back of Kurt's neck. Sweet. Peaceful. Anchored. Right.

Kurt cringed at those feelings, pushing them away, rejecting them. He wouldn't allow Blaine to control his future happiness.

The night had gone smoother than he thought it would. Blaine came back fast, not gloating at Kurt's change of mind. A small pleased smile stayed on his face as Kurt passed him pyjamas and they took turns in the washroom.

Waiting in his dark bedroom had been the hardest, his heart pounding in his chest as the bathroom light was turned off and he heard Blaine's approaching footsteps. Would he keep his word? If he tried to seduce Kurt, would he be able to resist? Did he want to?

But Blaine was a gentleman about it, cautiously folding himself under the covers, edging closer to Kurt like he was a skittish animal again. They didn't speak, but Kurt did make a sound of surprise when Blaine draped his arm over his waist.

He thought he'd never fall asleep, but Blaine's steady breathing was hypnotic. He slept deeply.

When Blaine woke up, should he even offer coffee and breakfast? It was customary on 'morning after's'. Kurt imagined a cozy breakfast, flirting while he poured coffee and Blaine dished out the bacon.

Forget it, Hummel. It would never happen.

Blaine shifted, his hand moving from Kurt's stomach to rest on his hip, and clutching a little. Kurt stilled, shocked, but it seemed like Blaine was still asleep.

He shifted again, leaning into Kurt, and that was definitely a hard cock against his ass. There were some small thrusts, and an occasional squeeze of his hand on his hip. Kurt was pretty sure Blaine was having an erotic dream, and he was wildly aroused by the idea. He was fully hard too, and very tempted to rock back against Blaine.

But then Blaine stilled, waking up, and a few seconds later pulled away with a soft swear. "Kurt, I'm so, so sorry." He rolled on to his back, not touching Kurt at all.

Kurt resisted the urge to just pull back the covers and devour him whole. But a quick glance showed that Blaine had his arm slung over his face to hide most of it. What part Kurt could see seemed to be flushed bright red.

Chuckling slightly, Kurt rolled out of bed. "Let's forget about it," he whispered, and sauntered to the bathroom. Although he was a little sexually frustrated, what had just happened was a balm to his ego. Blaine certainly hadn't been rejecting Kurt just then.

He took a hot shower, masturbating to more memories of Blaine than was healthy. He stepped on the scale out of habit and let out a whoop. He'd lost everything he'd gained from the big dinner, plus an extra half pound. It was incredible. Impossible.

Rushing back to the bedroom, he jumped onto the bed. The covers were back in place and Blaine was almost fully dressed. Pity.

"It fucking worked just like you said, Blaine! I thought it was all malarkey, but I'm actually down half a pound! It's like I didn't pig out at all," Kurt gushed, his smile wide.

Blaine should have been over the moon with this validation of his theory. Instead his eyes seemed to dim, his olive skin paling slightly, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He finished buttoning up his cuff as he rushed out of the room.

It took Kurt a second to follow him, finding him shoving his feet into his shoes and looking like he was seconds away from losing it. "Blaine, where are you going? Sit down and talk to me. You are in no state to-"

But before Kurt could grab his arm, Blaine had wrenched the door open enough to slip out and basically ran full speed down the hall. Kurt could only stare after him, still dressed in only underwear and his robe.

What the fuck had just happened?

Shaking his head, Kurt closed the door and got ready for work.

...

"Ugh! Did you see that new quarter pounder with cheese?" Sebastian groaned, as he plunked down on the chair beside Kurt's.

Kurt looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why are you sitting there? Why are you talking to me? Shoo..." He waved a hand like trying to get rid of a pesky fly.

Sebastian put his feet on the edge of the counter, his long legs bent at the knee, blatantly ignoring Kurt's brush off. "Is it just me, or are they getting even younger and skinnier these days?"

Sighing, Kurt followed his gaze to a slight girl who didn't look a day over fourteen, with a lost expression. "Quarter pounder with cheese?"

"Anorexic with a yeast infection," Sebastian supplied.

"Have you ever considered being supportive and kind to the other models, Sebastian? You have an established career. It makes you look petty to always be attacking everyone," Kurt drawled, for once trying to talk like a human to Sebastian. Just to see if there was anything real behind the bitchy facade.

Sebastian huffed and looked over Kurt with an assessing eye. "You would say something like that. You are about a month away from aging out of being a Twink. What will become of your 'career' then? Is there even a term for post-Twinks?"

A couple of the younger models walking by overhead the question.

"Hairless Otter?"  
"Party Ferret?"

Before Kurt knew it, they were encircled with people, all throwing out their suggestions.

"A twank would be a twink in the past tense."  
"Maybe a cross between a twink and a hunk? Twunk?"  
"Flight Attendant!"  
"Yestertwink, maybe? Or hasbtwink?"

Sebastian grinned widely at his minions, encouraging their vitriol. "Maybe you should just gain weight again, Kurt. Get back those chubby cheeks to look younger. Fat don't crack."

Kurt just held his hands up, and eased out of his chair. "Actually, I wouldn't mind being a Flight Attendant. Get to travel a lot..."

The debate continued as he went to the washroom. After using the facilities, he looked closely at his reflection in the mirror. Although he was cautious with his skincare routines and wearing SPF, he was looking a little older. It wasn't that he had wrinkles, but the naiveté was gone from his eyes. His face had also slimmed down slightly perhaps.

If he wanted to continue as a model, he would have to work in evolving his brand to whatever his next phase would be. An image of himself with shoulder length straight hair, parted in the middle, flashed through his mind. He chuckled, sucking in his cheeks to make his cheekbones more prominent. Perhaps he could lose twenty pounds and start wearing black eyeliner. Goth it up. He already had the pale skin.

Someone came in, and Kurt stopped making faces at himself in the mirror immediately, hoping they hadn't seen anything. He didn't need even more gossip making it's rounds about him.

It was all so superficial. When he was younger, he had read Vogues cover to cover, loving the fashion and admiring the beautiful models on every page. Dreaming of what perfect lives they must lead. Here he was, a celebrated face on the runway and in print, and being bullied almost as harshly as before. His whole career hinging on how he looked.

No wonder eating disorders and plastic surgeries were endemic in the industry. It was so shallow. Everything appearing beautiful on the surface, but it was no deeper than a puddle.

It was exhausting worrying about his weight as well. There was such a push to be thinner, you were looked at strangely when you ate normally. Kurt tried to resist this, eating healthy food on a regular schedule as much as he could.

Having Blaine around more lately was bringing up many of his old feelings. And last night showed how skewed his judgment was from it. He still couldn't believe he let Blaine stay over with such a flimsy excuse. On Kurt's side, he really just wanted more alone time with Blaine.

What was going on with Blaine? Talking about how his family hardly touched him when he came out, and how his first boyfriend died from anorexia? Why would he share such information with Kurt now? It made sense he changed to dating overweight guys after that, thinking they were 'safer'.

Had it gone deeper, to change who he was attracted to? During their relationship, once they had started having sex, Blaine had been very passionate and eager. Kurt could remember long nights in bed together with Blaine touching and kissing him everywhere for hours. Not put off at all that he was a little chubby. But as Kurt had slimmed down, mostly just from healthier eating habits, Blaine had touched him less and less. Sex became less frequent and the sessions shorter.

Kurt had assumed it was because the relationship was fading overall. But was Blaine less amorous because he wasn't as attracted to Kurt's thinner body? If that was true, why had he kissed Kurt so intensely a couple nights ago?

And then last night, with his 'bet' that Kurt could eat the large, heavy meal and not gain any weight, with the only stipulation being Kurt had to sleep in the same bed with him. And when it turned out to be true, he was obviously upset and left right away.

How fucked up was Blaine around food and weight issues? It was probably best if Kurt stayed the hell away from all his craziness.

But even as he thought that, a bit part of Kurt wanted to see Blaine and get to the bottom of this.

...

Two nights later, Kurt was changing back into his own clothes after a show, and one of the assistants passed him a note.

**Can we talk? I'm waiting outside. Blaine**

A dozen emotions hit Kurt at once. Anger and sadness. Desire. Curiosity. Frustration. And even though it was stirring so many bad feelings up, Kurt was too curious to resist finding out more. The last two days had been agony.

Blaine was waiting a little distance from the entrance, wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses and dressed down. If Kurt hadn't been looking for him, he probably wouldn't have noticed him.

He gave a small smile when Kurt walked towards him, but soon turned to hail a cab. Once inside, he told the driver his own address.

Kurt's stomach clenched at the thought of going back to Blaine's apartment. It was where they had spent so many nights. But they needed to be somewhere private to really talk.

"What does your boyfriend think about all this?" Kurt asked, thinking of the chubby guy Blaine had been with for a couple shows.

Blaine let out a huff. "We has a big fight when the pictures of us kissing got out there. I can't blame him. He broke up with me."

Not knowing what to say, Kurt nodded, and turned his face to stare out of the window. Even being in the back of a cab together was reminding him of similar times in the past. Holding hands, talking and teasing each other, cuddling and stealing kisses.

Kurt pushed the memories away. He needed to stay focussed on the present and getting Blaine to explain everything fully, no matter how painful it might be. He wouldn't leave until he was satisfied.

Blaine's apartment was roomy for New York. It had high quality decor, but wasn't flashy. Like most areas in his life, there was a quiet, understated elegance.

Blaine went to the kitchen, making noise in there. Kurt took off his coat and wandered around, seeing small changes here and there. Looking out at the view of the Hudson River.

Setting a tray down on the coffee table, Blaine unloaded a bottle of wine with two glasses. There was also a large plate with cheese, crackers and grapes.

Realizing he was hungry, Kurt loaded up a plate and started eating. Blaine was opening the bottle of wine, pouring out generous amounts into each glass. He sat down, taking a long sip, but didn't eat any food.

"So, you won our bet the other night, but didn't seem happy about it," Kurt started, just too tense to sit in silence. He crunched on grapes and ate chunks of cheese, partially out of nerves. He was an emotional eater.

Nodding, Blaine's eyes seemed large and sad, no sign of his typical cheerful expression at all. "I'll need to tell you more about my past, so you can understand. First thing is that I'm adopted. As a baby. My mother wanted more kids after Cooper, but didn't want to screw up her figure again."

It was surprising, but Kurt just nodded, encouraging Blaine to continue.

"I noticed differences between my parents, my brother and me as a teenager. Cooper ate so much at meals. I didn't have much appetite. My mother encouraged me to eat more, but since my weight was OK, so she didn't push it. At boarding schools, it was even more obvious. All around me, I saw guys eating huge amounts. I knew I was different. The doctor at school couldn't find anything strange with me but my weight was stable. He told me not to worry, that everyone had different metabolic rates."

Blaine took another big swallow of wine and then set it down. He was acting fidgety now, more uncomfortable with what he was saying.

"It's OK, Blaine. Tell me anything," Kurt cajoled.

Getting up, Blaine stated pacing aimlessly around the room, too keyed up to sit still. "When Lucas and I got together, I ate even less. My appetite was practically gone. He'd tease me, saying I was just shy about eating in front of him and probably pigging out in private. I laughed and made him swear not to tell anyone. Let him think that. But I knew something was really strange with me."

Kurt simply watched him.

Blaine finally dropped on to the sofa beside Kurt, rubbing his hands over his face. "It happened with all my relationships. I can't deny the truth anymore. The bet with you was just the final test. I have to face up to reality, no matter how strange."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Just spit it out."

Taking a big deep breath, Blaine turned to face Kurt. "I think I'm a vampire."

Kurt's first reaction was to let out a loud, surprised laugh. "What?!" It was so ridiculous, but Blaine wasn't teasing. He was dead serious. "You sleep in a coffin and drink blood? But don't remember doing it? And can walk around in the sunlight?"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Blaine swore out of pure frustration. "I know it's sounds dumb, but it's the only thing that makes sense. Vampire isn't really the right word for it, but it's the closest I can think of. No, I'm not dead and I don't drink blood. But I feed off of people. Hurt them."

"Bullshit. I know you, Blaine, and you are the kindest man I know," Kurt found himself saying, without even thinking first.

"It's not intentional. Somehow, I have no fucking idea how, I feed off their energy or something. Like the other night with you. You ate a large meal and said you would probably gain a pound or two from it. But you slept in the same bed as me and ended up losing half a pound. It would have been more if we had touched, especially skin to skin," Blaine explained, his expression pained, his eyes beseeching.

Kurt scoffed, getting off the sofa and walking to the window to stare out of it. Putting everything he knew about Blaine's past and seeing if it fit this crazy idea. "Oh, so you think Lucas died...because of you?!" Kurt turned to stare at Blaine in shock, the idea hitting him hard.

Blaine nodded miserably, and a tear seeped out of his eye. He swiped a hand over his cheek impatiently. "Every guy I've had sex with has lost weight. Commented about it. Said how much they have eaten and how surprised they were when they weighed themselves. In recent years, it was always with chubby guys who had been on lots of diets. Who tracked their food and exercise and knew how their bodies worked. All of them commented on how easily they were losing weight, without even trying."

The words were like an echo, so similar to what Kurt had thought when he had been in a relationship with Blaine. "Yes, with me too..."

Suddenly the idea didn't seem so out there. Thoughts madly swirled around Kurt's mind. "But you can eat...like regular food?"

Blaine shrugged. "It agrees with me less and less as I get older. I think I could even die if I tried to live on food alone now."

"But you don't always have a fat boyfriend..." Kurt said a little insensitively, working things through in his mind.

"I don't really get how it works. Maybe I can get energy from people from being near them. I don't think it's as efficient as skin to skin touch."

Kurt's eyebrows rose. "Like us, the other night. Wearing pyjamas. I lost weight just being near you."

"Yes," Blaine said, dropping his face into his hands. "But I can't risk it anymore. I'm stuck dating chubby men, basically using them for food. It's hard on both of us emotionally, since I have to try to not let them get too attached, as it can only last a few months. They aren't usually that experienced with relationships either, so seem to feel it all deeper..."

Realization hit Kurt hard. "Oh my God! I was just like all the rest! Another chubby guy for you to date for a few months. Food. Someone you could feed on until I got too thin. And then you broke up with me!"

Blaine looked wretched. "I tried to be gentle with you, Kurt. Encouraged you to try new things and meet people. You seemed so happy to lose weight, to get more into fashion. And then everyone started noticing you..."

Kurt scoffed, still reeling in pain. "I bet you loved that! I bet it made everything easier. You could just fade out of my life as I got into modelling. Did it make you feel less guilty?"

"Well, how else could I do it? I have to keep the relationships short as possible, to not let things get too emotionally entangled. I suppose I should just do hook-ups, but I find that too hard to bear. I have to like the person I'm so intimate with," Blaine wiped away a few more tears.

"And they should feel so lucky! They get a sexy boyfriend for a few fun months. Some hot sex and some good times."

Blaine shook his head, looking even more wretched. "I've thought of killing myself. I'm a horrible, nasty thing. It's been even worse since you."

Kurt scoffed, getting off the sofa to pace around, too angry and hurt to sit still. "Why? Were you upset that I went on to have a good life? That I could be happy without you?" But was he truly happy since Blaine? Had it all been superficial?

"No. Because I loved you then, and I still love you, Kurt. But I'd kill you if we were together," Blaine said, standing up and staring at Kurt. Looking lost and woebegone.

Kurt whirled to face him, mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak. Too flummoxed to think straight. But it was just too, too much.

He slammed the door hard as he escaped, running to the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He just needed to move, get the hell away. Find a dark, safe place to fall apart.

...

Loved you then...still love you...kill you...

The words rang in Kurt's head constantly. He had gone to bed early, cocooned under thick covers. Cried hard just to let out all the stirred up emotions from the past, and slept awfully. Horrible dreams all night. Dragging himself through work, feeling numb and half-dead.

The words repeating and repeating.  
Loved you then...still love you...kill you...

Kurt mulled over that whole conversation in great detail. Had Blaine gone a bit crazy, believing such a thing to be true? Was there a series of coincidences that gave him false ideas? Could there be another explanation?

He was mostly reeling from Blaine saying he still loved him. His crazy theory was what pulled them apart, not fading feelings. Blaine believed he was the main cause of Kurt losing weight, and thought if they stayed together, Kurt would end up looking anorexic. Maybe even dying like Lucas had.

...

He had the next day off, and invited a couple friends over for a movie night.

"Really, you want to watch that old series?" Mercedes said, rolling her eyes. She had brought some treats, and was unloading chips, cookies and premixed Kahlua Mudslides on to the coffee table. Yummy creamy mocha flavoured cocktails.

Kurt pulled a big tray of spicy chicken wings from the oven, and transferred them to a serving bowl. "Come on, it's so cheesy, it'll be fun to make fun of. Argue if she should go for the young old fogey, or the wolf-boy."

"For me, the last movie is the best. Twelve onscreen decapitations! Twelve!" Lauren said enthusiastically. She was dumping candy into bowls. Gummy bears, M&Ms and red liquorice.

With the coffee table covered with every type of junk food, they settled on to the sofa with their boozy drinks. They had all seen the movies before and were constantly cracking jokes to make each other laugh. Lauren had googled for a drinking game, and halfway through the second movie they were all drunk.

"Bella bit her lip! Drink!"  
"Edward is being creepy and she thinks it's romantic! Drink!"  
"Sparkly vampires! Drink!"

It was just the type of silliness Kurt needed, good distraction from everything that had happened with Blaine. But by the time Bella was depressed and mooning around over Edward leaving her, Kurt was finding he identified with her a little too much.

"So, um, hypothetical question," Kurt said, wording it carefully. "Would you let your vampire boyfriend feed off you?"

Mercedes laughed heartedly. "You mean just tilt your head to the side and chomp on your neck whenever he's peckish?"

Kurt nodded, grinning like it was all just a joke. "Yup. And it wouldn't leave any marks and you wouldn't become a vampire or get special powers."

"Hmmmm...well, I guess if it didn't hurt you and you loved him, why not? It might help keep him around," Mercedes said, scooping up some dip on a chip.

The answer made him smile a bit. "Yes, and you'd need to eat more to compensate."

"What? You get to eat whatever you want and don't gain weight? Sign me up!" Lauren took a big handful of gummy bears, popping them into her mouth.

Mercedes didn't look impressed at that comment. "Really, girl? Now that I'm thinking about it more, you are just food to him. Is it really love, or are you just convenient?"

"OK, OK, OK," Kurt held up his hands to stop Lauren from replying. "New scenario. What if he's a vampire and you are a couple. You aren't getting any special powers, just there for love. He goes to other people for blood in a consensual, non-sexual way. They are good to him."

Lauren almost spat out a gummy bear, she was laughing so hard. "So, he has some kind of food harem? Yeah, I'm sure it would be completely platonic."

"Can't you become a vampire too? Share his food harem?" Mercedes said, looking overly worried about the hypothetical couple. She was always an emotional drunk.

"Blah," Kurt said, curling his lip up in distaste. "Who wants to live forever? It would get so boring after a while."

Mercedes and Lauren kept throwing ideas back and forth, but Kurt kind of zoned out. He was drunk enough to ponder everything without judging it too closely.

There were a few possibilities with Blaine. He could be insane, or just imagining everything. But if it was true, and he was some kind of energy vampire, how did it work? Was he immortal? Was he born that way or did he get it some other way? Did his birth parents have it? Where was he from? There was probably no way of finding answers to most of those questions.

The only real questions were should Kurt be with Blaine or not? Did he love him or not? If he loved Blaine and wanted to be with him, would Blaine kill him unintentionally? Was there any way to stop it?

Kurt's eyes fell to all the food and alcohol on the coffee table. It was another day of indulging himself, eating too much junk. Perhaps he should text Blaine to come over, and keep him from gaining weight again.

Maybe he could be with Blaine, and just always eat too much. Wasn't that the dream? Eat tons and never gain an ounce? Would it be that hard to eat for two? Kurt chuckled at the idea, as it sounded like something pregnant women would say. But Mercedes and Lauren had some good points in their drunken ramblings. He would be Blaine's 'food' if they were in a relationship.

Oh shit! He had already been Blaine's food! For all the months they were together! Was all his weight loss simply from Blaine? He did eat healthier food, eating less and exercised more. He had been happy and in love, actually motivated to change his habits. Wanting to look good for his boyfriend.

Looking at the food, Kurt sighed. It had been such a big issue all his life, and he was finally at a fairly healthy place with it. He was at a good weight for a while now. He ate healthy foods, with only occasional times when he had some 'treats'.

If he was with Blaine, it would probably be fun to eat whatever he wanted. But he'd have to eat a lot all the time, to feed Blaine too. What was an occasional indulgence now would become an everyday reality. And he had come to like eating healthier foods, knowing they were better for his body. It would be harder getting enough calories in if he was eating healthy around Blaine. Maybe he could see Blaine just on his 'cheat' days?

But Blaine needed energy everyday, probably, and it sounded like he couldn't get much from food anymore. His solution of having short term relationships with chubby guys was making a lot more sense now.

...

About an hour later, there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Lauren slurred, and staggered towards the entrance. Kurt and Mercedes were cuddled on the sofa, both feeling fairly tipsy. The only light was coming from the movie, colours flicking over them.

"Kurt! Some hottie is asking for you," Lauren hollered, and then headed towards the washroom.

"What?" Kurt got up, giggling as he almost fell over. Going to the door, there was light streaming in from the hallway, a man in silhouette against it. Blaine. Oh shit. "What are you doing here?"

Blaine smiled, his eyes overly bright. "You texted me to come over. I thought you wanted to talk, but I see it's some kind of party?"

Kurt felt confused. He remembered thinking about texting Blaine in passing, but had he actually done it? Was he that drunk?

"Um, yeah. Just some high school friends. Come in and hang out with us," Kurt said uncomfortably, closing the door.

"You are watching Twilight?" Blaine said, looking at the junk food and empty glasses everywhere.

Mercedes was standing up, a friendly smile in place. "Join us! This will be fun. I'm Mercedes."

"And I'm Lauren," the tall woman said, coming back from the washroom.

Somehow Blaine ended up sitting between them on the sofa, not seeming to mind as they barraged him with questions.

"So, you are the same Blaine Kurt dated before?" Mercedes asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. She had living in LA back then, working as a back-up singer.

"Yes," Blaine sighed. "And I've been trying to convince Kurt to give me another chance."

Lauren was surprised. "But didn't things kind of fizzle out between you before? Why would it be any different this time?"

Blaine looked over at Kurt. "I think we are both a bit older and wiser now. We have both dated other people, and it has just made me realize how special we were together. We need to make it work."

Kurt could see he meant it, but it went against what he had been saying last time. What about killing Kurt if they were together? Had that all been a fabrication?

The women kept talking with Blaine, but Kurt went back to watching the movie. He couldn't think straight anymore. He was too drunk, too tired.

...

He woke up feeling groggy and still exhausted. He was getting too old to sleep in a chair.

The apartment was empty, and there was a note on the bare coffee table. Mercedes and Lauren must have tidied up.

**Kurt! You were sleeping soundly so we all went out for brunch without you. We felt too hungry to wait. Call you later. M**

Blaine must have either gone home or gone for brunch too.

...

"It was the craziest thing, Kurt! We went out for brunch and I had a whole pile of pancakes and bacon. And I still lost weight! Even after eating all that junk at your place!"

Mercedes had called as promised, with most of the call spent raving about how amazing Blaine was. Even Lauren liked him, and she didn't like most people.

Her comment made Kurt stop walking and move to the side, suddenly feeling out of breath. Like someone had kicked him hard in the chest. New Yorkers continued to walk past him, as they usually did.

"Um, you lost weight?" Kurt thought back, and he had seen Mercedes eating quite a bit. Lauren too.

Mercedes chuckled. "Yes! A whole pound. I told Lauren before I called you. She's down a half pound, but she ate most of those chicken wings."

"That's so strange," Kurt gasped, his mind reeling. "Um, I gotta go. Call you later."

He was close to home, and walked as fast as he could, winding through slower pedestrians. In his flat, he simply said a quick hello to Santana before racing to his bedroom. He stripped down to his shorts and went to the washroom. Taking a deep breath, he stepped on the scale.

He was up half a pound.

Confused, he staggered back to his bedroom, and crawled under the covers of his bed. Just needing to be warm and comfortable as he sorted things out.

Blaine had been there, and the women had lost weight but he hadn't. They had all eaten too much, and should have all gained a little. How did it work?

His memories weren't perfect, since he was drunk and watching the movies, distracted so much of the night. When Blaine had come, he ended up between Mercedes and Lauren. Kurt had sat on the smaller chair, a little further away.

This was exciting. This could be something.

...

The bell above the door jingled, and Kurt looked up from the menu. He gave Blaine a tentative smile. Blaine returned it, as he sat down at the booth.

"So, did you enjoy the movie?"

Blaine shrugged a shoulder. "It was alright. I think Disney is making these live action remakes just to introduce a young, new audience to their movies. I bet as soon as they get home, their parent is pulling out Cinderella or Aladdin, and getting them to watch the animated original."

"Which you think is better," Kurt added with a warm smile. He had always enjoyed Blaine unabashed love of Disney animation.

Blaine rolled his eyes playfully. "I think you already know my opinion on that topic."

The server came by, and Kurt ordered a cheeseburger but with a salad on the side instead of fries. Blaine just ordered a Coke.

They chatted on easily, going on to one of the many other interests they shared. This is so much what Kurt missed in other relationships he tried over the years. Sure, they had amazing chemistry and the sex was incredible, but outside the bedroom Blaine was simply great company. It was like being with his best friend.

After paying the bill, Kurt daringly reached over to take Blaine's hand. "Come back to my place?"

Blaine's eyes widened, showing a spark of heat, of hope, only to be repressed. "I really shouldn't, Kurt. You know I want to, but it's dangerous."

"Like before," Kurt urged. "No sex, just cuddling with clothes on."

"Another experiment?" Blaine's eyes fell to Kurt's empty plate, a skeptical look crossing his face.

"Trust me," Kurt said, standing up and taking Blaine's hand to pull him along.

The flat was dark and quiet, and Kurt didn't bother with the lights. He took Blaine right to his bedroom. He started stripping, holding Blaine's eyes until he started to do the same, his hands shaking slightly.

He didn't pass Blaine pyjamas this time, simply crawling into bed in his underwear. Blaine hesitated, and followed Kurt.

Kurt curled around Blaine, sighing at the feel of his warm skin, running a hand over his chest.

"Kurt," Blaine growled warningly, his hand capturing his to still it.

"OK, OK," Kurt chuckled. "I'm going to brush my teeth and wash my face. You can take a turn after me."

Slipping out of the bed, Kurt felt something he hadn't for a long time. Hope.

Before leaving the bathroom, he did weigh himself. In the morning he would do the same. He had eaten a normal dinner, so his weigh really shouldn't change overnight. If he lost weight overnight, it would really only be due to sleeping beside Blaine.

Returning to the bedroom, he felt a thrill at seeing a shirtless Blaine in his bed. How many times had he crawled over that man, touching and kissing him everywhere? The urge to do it again was strong, and Kurt diverted his eyes so Blaine wouldn't notice. "Your turn," he said softly, and waited until Blaine got out before he slipped under the covers.

He considered putting on pyjamas while Blaine was brushing his teeth, but rejected the idea. This was a more realistic test, and skin on skin contact might have a stronger effect.

...

It was early when Kurt looked at himself in the mirror. He had bedhead and his eyes were still sleepy, but inside he was excited. It was early, but he couldn't wait any longer.

Eyes closed tight, deep breath in, and Kurt stepped on the scale. This would determine his future. This. Right here, right now.

Opening his eyes, Kurt looked down at the number. His breath whooshed out, relief making his knees wobble and a surge of pure joy seeming to spread throughout his body.

"Blaine, Blaine," Kurt said, getting back into the bed, crawling over him like he'd wanted to for so long. It felt so good, so right.

The man beneath him blinked sleepily, his eyes warming at the expression of happiness on Kurt's face. "Good morn-"

His words were cut off by Kurt's kiss, a firm, intense kiss full of years of pent of feelings. He groaned, his arms instinctively coming up to hug him closer. Kissing Kurt back just as eagerly.

But after a few blissful minutes, he turned his face away, his arms dropping back to the bed. "Fuck, Kurt, this is too much. You know I love you, want you. But we can't-"

"We can. I've figured it out," Kurt grinned widely, scampering to sit beside Blaine with pillows against the headboard.

Looking bemused, Blaine eased into a similar position, pulling the sheet up to cover most of his chest. "What have you figured out?"

Taking his hand, Kurt played with his fingers. "Your theory about your condition is that you need to get energy from close contact with your romantic partner. You have deliberately chosen men who are overweight, knowing you could be with them safely for a longer period of time."

"Yes," Blaine said with a nod. "Which is why we can't keep doing this, Kurt. You are at the perfect weight and your dinner last night wasn't that big, and-

"I didn't lose any weight from being with you all night, Blaine." Kurt held his eyes, letting him see it was the truth. Watching as Blaine's eyes changed, a spark of hope in them. "You were already full from the movies."

"But I didn't eat..." Blaine started to say, his words drifted off as the realization hit him.

Kurt squeezed his hand. "You went to the movies a little early, so you were probably sitting close to Mercedes and Lauren for a good two and a half hours. It was enough."

"Are they going to be OK?" Blaine asked, concern flickering across his face.

Scoffing, Kurt leaned in to give Blaine a quick kiss. "I'm sure they had popcorn and candy. They had energy to spare, believe me."

Blaine was blinking slowly, a stunned look on his face. Kurt left him to think, simply stroking his fingers.

"Well, I can't go to the movies everyday with them, Kurt," Blaine said, trying to pull his hand away.

Kurt didn't let go. "No, but surely we can come up with other ways for you be around overweight women every day. Maybe it's movies and brunch on the weekends."

"I could hire overweight women for my office," Blaine said, and then shook his head. "But that wouldn't work. They could only work with me a few months before they'd be slim. It would look weird if I kept firing women after a few months."

"And it doesn't look weird to date chubby boys a few months and drop them when they slim down?" Kurt chuckled. "I think how close you are to people and the length of time are big factors. Sitting a foot from someone for an hour won't give you as much energy as cuddling with them for an hour."

"So, instead of feasting on one person, I snack on a dozen?" Blaine chuckled.

Kurt shrugged a shoulder. "I think we can figure out what will work."

Blaine looked at Kurt, his smile getting bigger and bigger. "Do you think it's safe to kiss you?"

"Yes," Kurt said, leaning in. Already, his heart was thumping harder in anticipation.

The kiss started softly, with Blaine's hand coming up to cup Kurt's face. But it quickly intensified, both of them sliding downwards until they were lying flat on the bed. They pressed their bodies together, the underwear hardly any barrier.

Breathless, Kurt kissed along Blaine's shoulder. Was this really happening? He felt Blaine's hand sliding into his underwear to cup his ass, and his own hands did the same. The next few minutes were a blur of hot kisses, exploring hands and frotting desperately. Too greedy for each other to hold back.

...

-Things looking better for the boys...


	5. Epilogue

"Brandon Jackson," the clerk called out to the waiting room, and a chubby man stood up, coming towards her.

She beckoned him down a hallway, and knocked softly on a door. There was a mumbled reply from inside, and she opened the door, urging Brandon inside.

The door closed behind him, and Brandon jumped with nerves at the sound.

"Please take a seat," the attractive man at the desk said, flashing him a welcoming smile before looking back down at the file in front of him.

It took a couple minutes, and Brandon looked around the small office. Posters about healthy food and keeping a positive attitude covered the walls.

"So, welcome to my clinic. You understand that I am just a weight loss coach, not a doctor, right?"

Brandon nodded. "Yes, Mr. Anderson."

The dark haired man smiled. "Call me Blaine. So, tell me about yourself. When did you first gain weight, and what techniques you've tried for weight loss in the past."

It felt more like a therapy session than the terse sessions he'd had with other weight loss centres. Usually it was just a quick weigh-in and discussion why he wasn't losing much weight. But Blaine just listened attentively, taking notes, and encouraged Brandon to talk.

"Great. Thanks for sharing all that. So, I'm here to support you in whatever diet and fitness plan you think fits you best. We will meet weekly to talk and set up action plans," Blaine said near the end of the session. "What would you like to focus on this week?"

When Brandon left the office fifteen minutes later, he felt really good. He felt like he had the motivation and energy to tackle his first small goals.

...

"Honey, I'm home," Blaine called out, as he entered his apartment. He could smell food cooking and hear the stereo playing softly.

Leaning against the kitchen doorway, he took in the scene. Kurt was dancing to the music as he chopped vegetables, putting them into a huge salad bowl. There was some baked chicken breasts cooling on a cookie sheet, smelling of Cajun spices. Walking forward, he wrapped his arms around Kurt's trim waist and kissed the back of his neck. "What's cooking, good looking?"

Kurt smirked, looking fondly over his shoulder at Blaine. "Is making a salad really 'cooking'? It doesn't involve heat."

Grabbing a piece of red pepper, Blaine enjoyed it's crisp texture and sweet taste. "I suppose you are right. Why are you making so much?"

He could go entirely without eating, only needing water and energy from people to survive. But he could tolerate most drinks and could eat about 1/2 a cup of food a day. It meant he could be social, eating a little when they were out with others, claiming he wasn't too hungry. He also liked tasting food, and found a few bites where enough to satisfy that urge.

Kurt waved towards the containers on the counter. "Just making lunch for the next few days. How was the clinic?"

"Great!" Blaine said, pouring out a couple glasses of red wine. "It's getting pretty busy. Had my first male client today."

"Should I be worried? Are you attracted to him?" Kurt said, dishing the salad into the containers and storing them in the fridge. He added chicken to the remaining salad in the bowl and tossed it with a vinaigrette.

They walked over to the kitchen table, setting the glasses and salad down. Kurt dug into his meal.

Blaine shook his head. "Nah. I have you. He is good-looking though, with big eyes and a nice face."

"Ugh! That is such a bad compliment! People always tell fat people that," Kurt shot back.

"Really? How is it bad?"

Kurt rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What would you say if I said 'I like your left earlobe'?"

Blaine grinned, "What's wrong with my right earlobe?"

"Exactly. It's like 'You look really good today'. The qualifier nullifies the compliment. Just say 'You look good.'"

Blaine took a sip of wine. "OK, OK. Point made. Brandon is good-looking, and I just want to build up his confidence. His plan is pretty healthy."

"Maybe in a few months he can take over my job," Kurt said as he finished his salad.

"Oh, and what will you be doing?" Blaine asked, arching an eyebrow.

Kurt smiled widely. "Working at . Isabelle Wright's assistant is going on mat leave."

Getting up, Blaine pulled Kurt out of his chair to give him a hard hug. "Oh, that is fucking perfect for you! They are going to want you to stay on, even when the leave is over."

Kurt brushed away some happy tears. "Yeah, maybe, but at least it's a foot in the door. I'll get some experience."

Blaine started swaying to the music, still holding Kurt close, nuzzling his face against his neck.

Sighing, Kurt sunk against him, dancing with Blaine right there.

It still seemed too incredible, sharing his life with this man. He had moved in a couple months ago officially, but he had been spending most nights with Blaine for weeks before that.

They were starting new careers, supporting each other, but finding things that suited them much better. It was scary, but so far it felt so, so right.

Blaine kissed Kurt's neck, that spot near his ear that always made his eyes close and his knees a bit weak. So fucking perfect, the chemistry and connection between them. "Mmmmmm that feels so good."

His hands went to Kurt's hips, tracing over his hip bones with his thumbs. "You know I can't resist you when you wear these low rise jeans."

Kurt smirked, nuzzling into Blaine's neck. "I love the way you sneak glances at my ass when I wear them."

Blaine's hands went to his ass, cupping it appreciatively. "Best ass of all the models. Sebastian is a handsome man, but your ass beats anything he's got."

"Is that why you are with me? For my butt?" Kurt said, chuckling. But under his laughter, lurked his old insecurities.

Blaine kissed him, a long, passionate kiss that Kurt felt right down to his toes, tingles shooting along every nerve. "I love your quick brain and snarky sense of humour. I love your passion for fashion. Love how close you are with your family and friends, and how you've let me get to know them all. I love your voice, and hearing you sing. Your butt is on the list somewhere in all that."

Kurt chuckled, trying not to blush. "I love how you have changed jobs and seem so interested in helping people. You have money, but you aren't greedy for more, and you've never been flashy about it."

Shrugging a shoulder, Blaine looked around his flat. "Money never made my parents happy. I'm just glad we had enough to buy this place. Now we can just be in careers we enjoy instead of worrying about making monthly rent."

It had been a big step, buying property together. Writing up an agreement with lawyers to protect both of them financially in case things didn't work out. But it was a promise to their future, wanting to build a life together.

Blaine's big eyes met Kurt's, and he could see the love there so plainly. "The most important thing to me is you. Us. You were the only one I trusted with my secret, and instead of labelling me a freak and running away, you were right there by my side, helping me figure out the best way to live with it."

"You did the same thing for me when we met," Kurt said, feeling so much for this man. "You saw the true me, and made me feel so much better about myself. I'm a happier man because you came into my life."

Blaine drew him towards the bedroom, and Kurt followed eagerly. In the darker room, they fumbled with their clothes, stripping quickly. On the bed, it was long, hard kisses and hands that went everywhere. Often, things were slow and sensual between them, but tonight it was urgent and passionate. Just needing to connect the deepest way possible, get as close as they could.

It had taken a few months for them both to trust this relationship. They had to learn if they could control Blaine's condition. Kurt ate normally, and watched his weight daily. A full day of clients seemed to fulfill Blaine's energy needs. On the weekends, they got together with some chubby friends or a larger group of people, knowing occasional contact wouldn't be too much for anyone. Often Kurt indulged in a bigger meal out on Saturdays, and then kept Blaine all to himself for a lazy Sunday. Knowing the close contact would keep his weight in check.

Kurt turned on the bedside light, just wanting to admire Blaine, lying naked and so beautiful in front of him. His hands smoothed over his olive skin, loving the way his boyfriend closed his eyes, arching into his touch. Responsive and eager.

Leaning closer, he kissed along the base of Blaine's neck, giving occasional nips and licks, keeping it interesting. He loved the taste of his skin, moving downwards. Between his legs, he cupped Blaine, stroking him slowly just to admire the way he moaned in pleasure, his heavily-hooded eyes gazing down at Kurt, urging for more.

Kurt took his time, stroking, kissing touching. Teasing. He saw something that caught his eye, and he paused, looking closer. Blaine was very good with his hygiene and manscaping, usually waxing or trimming his chest hair, and keeping his pubic hair trimmed neatly. But amongst the dark curly hair, there was something silver.

"You have a grey hair!" Kurt said, completely shocked.

Blaine chuckled, looking down at his boyfriend. "Just one? Lots of people start getting them around thirty."

Kurt sat up, eyes still wide. He leaned over, turning the bedside lamp up to a brighter setting.

Blaine squinted against the glaring light. "Kurt...," he groaned, in a complaining tone.

But his boyfriend paid him no heed, simply angling the light to shine on Blaine's face directly and peering at him closely.

"You have wrinkles too..." Kurt finally said, sitting back, a lost look on his face.

Blaine sat up, turning the lamp back to the regular setting, and took Kurt's hand. "What's going on?" They had been living together for months, but they were still learning things about each other. "You don't like that I'm showing signs of my age? Want to trade me in for a younger man?"

He said it jokingly, but inside he felt a bit insecure suddenly. They were close in age, but Kurt was a model. A beautiful man in a beauty-focussed industry. Had looks become that important to him? It didn't seem like the Kurt he knew.

Kurt shook his head impatiently at the questions, finally meeting Blaine's concerned gaze with a sigh. "We joked about you being a vampire in the beginning, but we really don't know the extent of how you, um, 'work'. I guess it's a relief to know you are mortal."

"You are relieved I'm going to die someday? Gee, thanks," Blaine said, half-smiling.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt looked even younger. "Well, in a few years I know I'll look older, and it could get weird if you stayed looking this age. At first people would think I bagged a younger man, but then I'd start looking creepy, and then people would probably start thinking I'm your father or grandfather."

Blaine leaned closer, giving Kurt a big kiss. "I love that you are thinking of us together for years and years. Our whole lives. Because that's all I can imagine too."

"Fuck, I love you so, so much," Kurt said, his voice shaky with emotions and his eyes filling with tears.

Hugging him close, Blaine felt just as emotional. "Me too, me too. You are just 'it' for me. No other man even came close. You took over my heart."

"And you have mine too."

...

-A/N: Thanks so much for reading this trope-erific story of mine. It was fun to delve into the modelling world and the idea of Blaine as some sort of accidental vampire/cannibal, but he's still damn cute


End file.
